If You Don't Remember the Past
by ColdSummerBreeze
Summary: What really happened when Dean was in New Orleans for the Voodoo Job? What if it was a job that was more than he let on when he met up with Sam? What if Dean's past in New Orleans affects future jobs? This is that Story. Rated T because its Supernatur
1. New Orleans

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters that are within it.

Summary: What really happened to Dean down in New Orleans before he went to go and get Sam? It started out as a Voodoo job but will it turn into something more?

* * *

Dean sat at the library for a couple of hours. It was a quaint little library. It was also the first one that had music playing in the background and he sort of liked it. He was there for recon work like always. This time he was in New Orleans by himself. Dad had sent him on a couple of jobs by himself but always when he was close enough to help if he needed it. This time though, Dean wasn't exactly sure where John was. It made him slightly nervous. But as soon as he felt his nerves start to worry, he started to work hard; which is why he was in the library in the first place. He began to lean back on his chair, tapping his pen like always. 

Dean continued to stare at the two little boys that were chasing each other in the library. He couldn't help but smile as he gathered everything up. Dean was pretty sure that he and Sammy had done this to his father at least once. A pretty brunette grabbed one boy as the older of the two dodged her grasp. He came running towards Dean. Right as Dean was going to snatch him up, a man grabbed the kid instead.

"Are you giving Mommy problems?" the man laughed as he carried his son back to his mother. The young woman smiled at Dean who gave a little wave as he picked up his backpack and walked out of the nearly empty library. Dean looked down to the folder that he had.

The case was voodoo. Five people killed, all different deaths all different walks of life. There was a teen that was no older than twenty whose heart had exploded. A woman of thirty had lost her sight and then slammed into a wall with her car. A man broke both of his arms while paddling a canoe. He died from drowning. The last two were twins both died from allergic reactions when they were no where near what they were allergic too. But they all had one thing in common.

They had all gone and visited a woman named Ophelia before they died. After extensive digging, Dean had finally found something about Ophelia dated like forty years ago, the only thing he could find really. He looked down to the marriage license to an Ophelia Flowers and Danny Jones that he held in his hands. It was the only Ophelia that even remotely matched the description that Dean had heard from relatives.

* * *

"_So, your daughter, she was in a healthy condition?" Dean asked as he looked at the mother. Boy was she a Milf. He was having such a hard enough time keeping his eyes up. She was a gorgeous mother and judging from the pictures around the house the daughter bore her mother's genes._

"_Never better," the mother whispered. A younger brother kept walking in and out of the room. He was making Dean nervous. The boy reminded him of a blond Sam but not as quiet. When the boy was in the room, Dean felt compelled to watch him._

_Dean nodded, "Could you tell me what happened?" The woman got up and left the roomlooking almost fearful of what she could say, all of the "what-if" situations coming right back to her memory. Dean sat for a moment shocked. He wasn't sure what to do until the little brother came in to sit on the chair directly across from him._

"_She was playing me in chess. It was our final game before she went back to school. She started to sweat and push on her chest. And then, all of the sudden she slumped over," the little boy grew quiet as the story progessed. Dean couldn't think of anything to say, he was honestly speechless in front of the little boy. He finally stood towering over the boy thinking it was the only honorable thing to do._

"_I'm sorry," Dean stated as he made his way for the door. He paused for a moment. "One more thing, did your sister visit an Ophelia before she died?" The little boy shrugged at Dean. But he still got his answer._

"_Yes she did. With her friends as a joke," Dean heard the mother say with tears in her voice. Dean looked up the steps to see her standing above him. He nodded his head and left._

_

* * *

_

Dean played with his keys outside of the Impala trying to decide while still parked in the library's lot. He could go and play at the bars or he could go and get this job done. He got into the car and turned up the radio.Dean went to go and getthe jobdone. At least he could drive past the place to see what it looks like. He smiled to himself. _I wonder if Katy is working at the bar again…_

Dean squinted a bit as he turned onto the street where the sun was staring him down. He heard tires squealing as he quickly pulled over. A car closely followed by a police car flew down the street. _Strange..._Dean dug through his backpack looking for an address that was on the license. But it wasn't the people walking down the street or the cop chase that his car was almost mowed down that tipped Dean off. It was the building that he ended up parking in front of. It caught his eye when he saw the big "O." He had barely even looked up when the "O" screamed for his attention. Dean got out of his car and stared at the building, his inner EMF meter going off.

"What are the odds?" Dean asked himself. Staring back at him was a clean looking building compared to the rest of the buildings in the backstreet alley. "Ophelia's Place" lit up the building in front of him but yet there were no lights. Wind chimes hung outside of the door making a small bell noises in the warm breeze. The chimes just seemed like they were in the wrong place. Dean rubbed behind his head as he leaned on his car. He was going to get right back into the Chevy when two fire hydrants exploded behind him and down the street blocking his way out of the alley. It was the explosion made him almost fall to his knees. Dean instantly knew that he was in the right spot. He shook his head as he checked for his gun and walked towards the building.

"You're not going to need that dearie," Dean heard from to his right. Dean slowly turned his head as a very white, very old woman walked past him into the shop. Dean sized up the woman wondering how much power she really had. She opened up the shop with a key and left the door wide open. Dean shook his head and leaned back on his car.

"I'm not going to wait all day!" Dean heard her shout. Ignoring all of his instincts, Dean walked into the shop, hand on his gun, and nerves on their edges.

And then the door slammed close behind him.

* * *

A/N: Please Read and Review, let me know if I should keep going with this or it's just rubbish. Basically, with this story, I've always found it interesting that it seems that Dean knows more than he's letting on. So does he? Gotta let me know how it is to find out! 


	2. Cloudy Perspective

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the boys within it...shame...

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews. **tracer2032**, I hope I give New Orleans' her justice. If anything seems out of place, let me know. I'm just a Midwesterner myself. **H.T.Marie **here's some more to judge! **saiyuki123 **thanks for the kind words! I love to know how I'm doing, good or bad, let me know! I can only get better if you tell me how I'm doing!

Sweet, here's chapter 2:

Cloudy Perspective

* * *

Dean walked into the shop or store, whatever it was with his senses on guard. Voodoo was the last thing that he really needed torturing his mind. He took everything in at once.

He had just assumed that it was going to be one of those shops. You know, the ones selling fake items to unsuspecting customers. He half expected a crystal ball and fake antics to suck in the crowds. What he found instead, was a restaurant. It wasn't your normal restaurant either. Dean instantly had a flashback of a Midwestern restaurant not a New Orleans restaurant at all. The colors of the restaurant were more neutral colors they weren't as bright as some of the restaurants that he had been in this week. Tables, not booths, with different colored table cloths littered the room.

"Come on son, we don't have a lot of time," Dean heard from the back. He slowly made his way back, visions of knives and other appliances flying at him. When he made his way into the kitchen, he had three pairs of eyes on him. His hand rested on the gun that was tucked in the back of his pants. He didn't know what to expect. He just had this feeling in the back of his mind that Ophelia wasn't who he was supposed to be looking for.

"I wasn't talking to you Dean," said the woman that Dean had assumed was Ophelia. Her short statue still had no effect on the presence that she gave off. Her blonde hair was long and curly. Her dress and hat were bright and touristy with patterns of flowers everywhere. She had a very commanding attitude around her. Dean stood sheepishly for a beat not knowing what to do, not knowing what to believe. He hated feeling like this. He never felt like this and this definitely wasnot his first job alone. Ophelia turned back to the other man in the back, pointing out items on a menu to him. A girl looking no older than Sam turned and looked at Dean.

"Come on stranger, you can help me set up," a girl with the same blonde hair said walking past Dean, her eyes never making any contact with him. Dean paused before following. This was the weirdest thing that he had ever encountered. Ever. But he felt so compelled to follow the girl.

"I'm Laramie Jones, Ophelia's granddaughter," she stated as she reached into a drawer pulling out rolled silverware. She turned to face Dean for the first time. And that's when he finally got a good look at her.

Laramie was shorter than Dean by only a couple of inches. Laramie's jeans were ripped and her t-shirt had something written on it in another language. Her blonde hair was pinned up to stay out of her round face. She was very soft looking, Dean though that she never looked like she played sports at all. And then he figured out why. Laramie wasn't looking at Dean; she was looking below his eye line. He looked over his shoulder quickly to see no one there. He looked back to her very light blue looking eyes. It almost looked like they had a swirl of white in front of them.

She continued to hold her hands out with the silverware, waiting for Dean to take the hint. He stood there realizing that Laramie was blind. She offered the silverware again. Dean started to move to take them when she pulled them towards her body.

"If you wave your hands in front of my eyes once, you're going to regret it," she stated before she outstretched her arms the last time. Dean took the silverware quickly. He wasn't going to do it but he couldn't lie to himself that because he was thinking about it.

"I'm Dean, Dean Winchester," Dean stated as he followed Laramie's lead in setting them down on another table. "But you already knew that didn't you?" Laramie smiled as she moved to another table, slightly tripping on a chair. Dean moved to help her but she shook his help off. Dean leaned back taking her all in. He wondered how long she had been like this considering she knew her way around the place without a cane or dog.

"My Grandmother called your father. He said that he had another more pressing job to deal with. But, he said he would send his son Dean. And we're assuming that's you," Laramie stated as finished her table. Dean remembered that conversation like it was yesterday.

"_Dean, son, I need you to go to New Orleans. An old friend called, they're having what it seems to be an old Voodoo problem," John stated to his son who was still licking his wounds from the night before._

"_I thought Jericho was our next project," Dean asked as he finished covering up a wound on his arm a little confused. He always worked with his father on everything._

"_Dean, you're twenty-six years old. This job done in New Orleans should be a fun one for you," John stated. Dean knew something was instantly up. Usually jobs were straight forward, never fun. Fun times were the times Dean and his father made money in bars._

"_Dad, listen, I think I should be at Jericho, with you," Dean spat out. John whipped around to his son, tossing him a duffle bag._

"_Dean, you're going to New Orleans. That's an order son. Pack up your stuff because you're leaving today," John stated as he walked into the bathroom closing the door tightly. Dean stood in the room for a moment before he started to pack up his things. Within the hour, Dean was alone in the Impala by himself with the AC/DC rolling on his way to New Orleans._

"And here I thought your grandmother was causing the Voodoo," Dean stated, going out on a limb. Laramie began to laugh instantly. He raised an eyebrow at her laugh. It reminded him of the Grandmother from the Garfield Christmas movie.

"My grandmother," Laramie popped out between her laughter, "helped your father on a case about ten years ago with pixies. Your father owed her. She called in a favor." Dean walked over and picked up more silverware to set the last table. "You just have to set that last table to your right." Dean stopped mid-step turning his head quickly at Laramie.

"How did you, I thought you were," Dean stuttered. Laramie smiled.

"When you grow up blind, you pick up on other things," Laramie stated. She pulled out a chair and sat down. Dean joined her.

"So, tell about this Voodoo problem. This is New Orleans right? I did get about a hundred hits for New Orleans Voodoo online," Dean stated. Laramie began to twist her ring as she started to talk.

"Usually the Voodoo is child's play. No one ever believes it really. And if they do, it's for love or friendship. Never murder," Laramie paused as the male that was in the back walked out the front doors. "We've had five deaths, five in which were all here at the same night. They were all different deaths, all at different times."

"All had no reasons to really be dead," Dean finished for her. "Why do you think it was Voodoo?" He leaned forward closer to Laramie. If she noticed she didn't move.

"That night, there was a man who came to the restaurant for the first time. He claimed he was a Voodoo specialist, pulling pranks and such to customers in the room, like a show. But now, anyone who was here that night is starting to die." Laramie stated. Dean nodded his head.

"Do you have his name, anything that I could track him down with?" Dean asked. Laramie nodded her head. She stood up and made her way to the hostess's area. She bit her lip and waved Dean over.

"I don't know what his card feels like," she mumbled as she tried to find the business card. Dean could feel her embarrassment. He pushed around some items on the desk until he found one.

"Was his name Alan?" Dean asked after reading the card name. Laramie paused for a moment with her hands and then nodded her head. The card was like any business card with an address and a number. It had a figure like the invisible man, a dark cloak and hat.

"What is your plan of action dearie?" Dean heard again from Ophelia. She was now in the room with him and Laramie. Her hair was now pinned up like Laramie's, out of her face. Her flowered hat was now gone too.

"You make it sound like there's a time limit with this sort of busy," Dean teased. Laramie's face which was holding a smile was now holding a frown matching her grandmother's face. Dean looked between the two.

"You might actually," Laramie stated. "I'm guessing you don't know what happens at the end of the week?" Dean shook his head no. Ophelia shuffled out of the room to come back with a flyer.

"It's the annual Voodoo Festival that happens every year on Halloween," Ophelia said to Dean as he took the flyer from her. "We're assuming that some real damage could be done."

"Ahhh crap," Dean stated as he rubbed the back of his head. "End of the week?"

"End of the week," Laramie stated.

* * *

Later that night:

Phillip Myles was in the comfort of his own apartment watching waiting for his mother to call. He had promised that he would wait before he went out for the night. It was the one night a week that she would call. What he really wanted to do was smoke a cigarette. But having gone cold turkey for a week now, all he really could do was play with his lighter. Lighting it, closing it, lighting it, he just kept playing with it.

He began to pace. God, he hated waiting for his mother to call. It was like waiting for the ocean to part. Phillip began to feel a dull pain in his shoulders. He rubbed his back with his free hand. Within seconds, his knees were exploding like someone was bending them backwards. He was on the floor and in pain. The lighter flew from his hand to the ground open. Phillip grabbed his knees, trying to figure out what happened to him. He didn't even notice his open window.

Or the person dressed in all black in the open window.

The fresh air made the fire spread quicker in the apartment. Phillip was doomed. His shouts for help never reached his neighbors ears until they smelled the smoke. But it was still too late for him.

No one saw the man in black. Or the doll that he threw into the fire with pins in the knees.

* * *

Second Disclaimer: Okay, I don't own AC/DC or the Grandmother from Garfield but I figured I would throw this in for good measure.

A/N: Okay, I know Dean is fumbling a bit but he is human compared to popular opinion ;) What do you think?


	3. Hidden Meanings and Stated Words

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural...I just fanwanked this story ;)

**tracer2032**-Thanks for the Voodoo New Orleans insight. I definitely changed somethings around because of it!

**snchills**-Thanks for the kind words! Means a lot that you dropped a couple of lines!

**MacCartney**-Well...hopefully this post covers alittle bit about the party and the Ladies. More on them will appear later ;)

* * *

Here is the next Chap...**Hidden Meanings and Stated Words  
**

The storm that had started while Dean had walked into Ophelia's place thickened with rage. Dean stood at the door looking out at the rain. It was barely visible outside. It reminded Dean of a storm one time that the Winchesters ran into in Wisconsin during the dead of winter. He remembered how scared Sam had gotten and it had taken Dean singing to him to get him to shut up. He turned back around to see Laramie walking around with candles, placing some in different spots along with on the table in which Dean had been working for the past couple of hours.

"What are those for?" Dean asked. The electricity was working fine. Until the next clap of thunder and lightning knocked the lights out before Laramie could answer.

"The candles are in case the electricity goes out. It doesn't take much for them to go out," Laramie stated unknowing that the lights had just gone out. Dean grinned in the dark at her foresight.

"Have any matches?" he asked. He heard Laramie walk away from her before walking back.

"Here, don't like it in my world Dean?" she asked. Before Dean could respond, Ophelia called for granddaughter in the kitchen. Laramie turned and carefully made her way into the kitchen. Dean lit the candles one by one until the dining area gave off an eerie glow.

He sat down to look at the flyer again where his leather coat was hanging on the chair, along with stuff that he printed off from the library. Right now, his best lead was Alan who at best had to be human. There just seemed to be something off about how he was picking his victims and why Ophelia's Place? It just seemed off to him. _Everything about this job was off._

"Dean dear, you ready to think about something else?" Ophelia asked as she walked into the room with a candle in one hand and a stack of paper in another. Dean nodded his head.

"I'm open to distraction," he stated as he took the papers from Ophelia.

"You remind me of him, your father," she stated with a smile. "How's your brother?" Dean paused at the word brother. He considered lying but what was the point; sometimes older women could read him like a book.

"I actually don't know. I haven't talked to him in about four years," Dean stated as he pulled a candle closer to the first paper. "Is this the seating chart from the night this all started?" Ophelia nodded to him. She stared at the Winchester as he began to read through the papers. He was concerned for them but at the same time was missing something. She wondered what it could be.

"Here is the tape," Laramie stated as she floated into the room like a ghost with no light in her hands. Dean jumped a mile high at the sight of her. Ophelia laughed at the antics as she took the tape from her granddaughter. Laramie pulled up a chair to the table to wait for what was going to happen next.

"Were you here that night?" Dean asked as he flipped through the sheets. Ophelia nodded.

"I wasn't here. I was at a friend's that night," Laramie stated. She pulled out a book out of her pocket. She knew that she was going to be useless for the next half an hour as Dean and Ophelia wrote names on pieces of paper and taped them to their chairs. Dean walked into the kitchen and grabbed extra candles, placing one in front of each spot that a person had died. Dean jumped onto a chair to see if he could see a pattern in who was killed as Ophelia hobbled about lighting more candles.

"Ophelia, tell me about that night," Dean finally stated as he climbed off of the chair. Even Laramie looked up from her book. It was funny to Dean to realize that Laramie was reading with her head down but really it didn't matter where she looked with her fingers reading. Laramie put her arms up on the table next to Dean. He touched her cold arm so she knew where he was. She nodded as they both waited for the story.

"Well, that night went something like this," Ophelia started.

* * *

_It had been a busier night, one of the busiest nights in a long time. Usually people came for the readings or musician night but it was Voodoo Night. The dining room was packed with young and old alike. We were serving better than we ever had in our lives. The food was good, people were happy, and it was just a blast._

"_Ophelia, Alan is here," Brittany shouted to me. I looked over to the door. There Alan stood in his black cloak taking in everyone. Usually I met with the show people before we started but Alan just jumped right into the show._

_I watched him begin his show, pulling up a girl. He pulled out a doll that looked like no one in the room. But Alan assured everyone that it didn't need to look like her; we just had to believe that it did. As I stood by the kitchen, I was joined by all of the cooks wanting to see the first trick._

_The girl had claimed that she didn't believe in what Alan was going to do to her. He walked behind her so she couldn't see him and twisted the dolls arm. At first, she said nothing. Alan gave everyone looks. The second time he did it, she screamed._

* * *

"Was that Karen Macabe?" Dean asked interrupting. Ophelia shook her head no.

* * *

_Still, you could tell that people didn't believe that Alan was for real. Until he picked a little girl who was with her parents. Granted, Alan had been at this for about an hour now so he was getting irritated that people still didn't believe that he was the real thing._

_Poor little girl, she just came with her parents because they couldn't find a sitter. Alan pulled her in front of everyone. Within moments, the little girl was screaming, screaming at the top of her lungs. The parents rushed forward to grab their daughter. Alan was chased out of the building by fathers and brothers alike. The little girl kept screaming and screaming until suddenly she grew blue in the face. By the time medical help came it was too late, she was already gone. It was the worst night of my life._

* * *

"What doesn't make sense," Ophelia stated, "was how he was picking people and how he did half of his tricks. Most seemed like they needed more than one person but Alan was doing everything himself." 

"Unless someone in the room was involved too," Laramie stated. Dean nodded his head.

"Everything was random?" he asked. Ophelia nodded his head.

"I couldn't even point to you where around the room he did things. I only remember the girl because it was the end," Ophelia stated to Dean. He nodded his head again.

"So, we have five victims. They all sit around this room in different spots with no rhyme or reason to it. And Alan, who has ties to everyone here because he was here that night, is picking people randomly. And not to mention the fact that it happened here," Dean spoke out loud. "Are you sure that he doesn't have anything against you?" Ophelia laughed at the mere suggestion of it.

"I'm sure that this has nothing to do about me," Ophelia stated. Dean peeked over to Laramie who had a different look on her face. _Something still isn't right; Laramie knows something or is hiding something…..that moment had such an uncomfortable air to it._

Ophelia quickly stands off of the table and looks to her watch on her hand.

"Look at the time, I, a lady of my age, should be in bed," Ophelia stated. Dean watched Laramie nod her head. _Because that didn't give anything away that you're hiding something _Dean thought.

"I'll take care of this," Laramie declared.

"I'll help," Dean said. He started to blow out candles and carry them into the kitchen. Dean and Laramie continued to put things away in the dining room as Ophelia walked up the steps to go to bed. Laramie had no problems putting up the chairs as Dean put away the candles, stacks at a time so he'd have some light.

"Are you afraid of the dark?" Laramie finally asked as she finished putting up the chairs. Dean was surprised at her question. He looked around just because he had _that_ feeling again.

"No, sometimes I welcome it. Why do you ask?"

"You asked for the matches right away when the lights went out. You still haven't put out all of the candles yet," Laramie stated. "It was just a simple question."

"No, that question has a lot of force behind it," Dean stated as he blew out the last candle putting both of them in the dark. _How did she know I didn't put them all out?_

"What do you mean force Luke," Laramie joked. Dean followed her voice to stand right next to her. He was still uncomfortable about her question. Why would a normal grown man be afraid of the dark? Then again, he knew what was truly out there….

"It just has a lot of connotation behind it," Dean stated.

"Connotation? Busting out the big words aren't we?" Laramie asked. She held out her arm and found Dean's shoulder. Her hands felt icy cold through Dean's shirt. "Come on, you can stay in one of the guest rooms." She pulled Dean up the steps slowly.

"Where are your parents Laramie?" Dean asked as they turned a corner. His eyes were finally adjusting to the dark. Laramie opened a door and walked through it before answering.

"Dead, both killed in different car accidents on the same night," Laramie stated, "that was the night I lost my sight. It was pretty traumatizing for a ten year old." Dean stopped as Laramie turned on the lights to the room.

"God, Laramie, I'm sorry," Dean stated. That was horrible question. He should have figured.

"What about you? Hunting is something that normal people don't usually get into because they want to hunt," Laramie stated as she found some blankets in the closet. She sat down on the bed as Dean didn't answer. He stood staring off in memories when she interrupted. "You're silence is deafening."

"Sorry," Dean stated. "My mother was killed in my brother's nursery by something." He paused for a beat. "My father has made it into a personal vendetta to hunt this thing down. I guess I have too. Sam though, god, he's up at college studying to be a lawyer or something. He hates hunting." Dean sat down shifting his weight to lean on the head board.

"I'm sure he doesn't hate it," Laramie stated. She crossed her legs and looked in his direction.

"You haven't met Sam," Dean stated. Laramie cocked her head her head with a smile.

"Maybe he doesn't hate hunting but he hates that he wasn't given a choice in the matter," Laramie stated. Maybe it was the job or lack of sleep but the comment didn't sit well with Dean.

"Well, maybe if my mother had a choice of being killed on Sam's ceiling I wouldn't be here right now," Dean snapped back. Laramie sat up quickly, her eyes betraying her thoughts of hurt. She pulled herself off of the bed and into the door frame.

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't mean it like that," Laramie stated as she walked out of the room, closing the door to make her comment the last. Dean just sat, with the light on in his room thinking about what she said. Sam's innocence was something that Dean had always hated.

Sam got to play sports while Dean trained. Sam was in a school play while Dean killed off ghosts. For once in his life, Dean wished he had had choices concerning his life. He leaned back on his bed closing his eyes. But what did it matter? Duty and loyalty came before his choices. It had always been his responsibility for everything growing up. How would Laramie ever know that the choices for Sam were a given.

Choices for him were not.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, Dean heard a noise from the hall. Instantly he was up with his hands solidly gripping his gun that had been in the back of his pants since he first walked into the restaurant. Realizing that the light from his room was going to give him away if he opened the door, he switched off the lights praying that who ever was out in the hall didn't notice the lights. Allowing himself a moment to get used to the dark, Dean very gently pulled open the door to the hallway.

He didn't see anything at first. The hallway was just as dark as his room as he pointed his gun into the hall. He half expected Ophelia or Laramie to be out in the hall because of the noises. He turned towards the window at the end of the hall.

And that's when he saw her.

She was wearing a simple dress with her hair up in curls. Fear was written in her eyes and her body movement. Dean lowered his gun, he had a feeling that this was the little girl from the story and that she wasn't a threat to him….yet. She shifted to him quickly; he was shocked at her speed. She tugged on Dean's shirt just like Sammy did when he was younger and needed to whisper anything. He thought for a moment before kneeling down.

"I'm not the only ghost in this house," she whispered having an airy feel to her voice. Dean turned and cocked his head at the little girl. Why did she feel the need to tell him that? "You need to get out of this hall now!" She shouted as she disappeared.

Movement came from the window in front of Dean and to his right. He pointed his gun to the right first. Laramie was standing outside of her room.

"Dean?" She asked. A shattering of glass caused Dean to whip his gun at the two men that broke through the second story window.

"What the?" Dean whispered as he stood with his gun raised. The two men pointed a flash light right in his eyes causing his to look away.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Dean heard before they scrambled for something. He heard the unclicking of a safety.

"Dean?" Laramie asked again as she stepped between him and the men. Everyone froze for a moment, the room dropping in temperature.

"It's her, get rid of her," Dean heard. He grabbed for Laramie's arm as the first round went off but missed only to feel a cold misty air rush past his hand.

"Laramie get down!" He shouted as he hit the deck himself opening fire on the two men. Laramie dove to the floor as the men scrambled out the window to avoid Dean's gun fire. Dean got off of the floor to chase after the men. He saw the fire escape and quickly moved out of the window.

"Laramie stay put!" Dean shouted holding out his hand to her as he continued to follow the men down the steps. He quickly jumped from step to step gaining on the men who were similar in size and in height. One was wearing a black cape while the other had on all black clothing. One of the men turned around to fire shots off at Dean. Shots off bounced off of the metal fire escape. He dodged most of the pinging until he felt the hot sensation graze across right arm.

"UGH!" he shouted as he dropped his gun to cover up the already bleeding wound. He peeled back his hand slightly to see how deep the cut was. It was merely just a flesh wound. _For the Love of everything good_ Dean thought to himself as he picked up his gun. He gave one final look to the streets below to where the men took off down the road into the night making him turn back to where he left Laramie.

"This better not leave a scar," he growled to himself as he stepped through the window where Laramie was standing holding a plant ready to fire away.

"Dean?" she asked pulling the plant back.

"It's me Laramie. Have a first aid kit?" He asked as she slowly lowered her weapon. Laramie nodded and motioned Dean to follow her. As they walked down the hall together, Dean felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck. He turned to look to the window.

There, sitting there was the little girl with tears running down her face. Her words echoed in Dean's mind again.

"_I'm not the only ghost in this house."_

* * *

A/N: Hmmmmmm...Please Review and Let me know what you think, good or bad! 


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